


As Daylight Dies

by Dead_Alias



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Canon-Typical Violence, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Dark Magic, Horror, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Inspired by Music, i watched a scary movie about the woods so i wanted to write something like it, lullaby of woe, no graphic violence yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24005719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dead_Alias/pseuds/Dead_Alias
Summary: The Witcher keeps to himself, gaze downcast, gloved hand extended to his tankard to keep within his lips' reach."Are the stories true?""Depends." The voice that comes from under the hood is deep, a wolf's growl and grunt. The White Wolf, an apt name for the man.--A different, darker meeting between Geralt of Rivia and Jaskier. It's going to get darker.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	As Daylight Dies

**Author's Note:**

> Trying my hand at horror, because I got really excited about the Witcher III: Wild Hunt trailer song Lullaby of Woe (which Ashley Serena sings a beautiful haunting cover of) and was the inspiration of this fic. Also watched The Ritual which was also very good???!!! A+ monster reveal in that.

"I've heard of you." The man doesn't respond, his hood kept low, casting a dark shadow across the pale ghostly complexion of his face. The golden eyes shine and glow underneath, burning like torches in the low light of the tavern. "Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken, are you not?" he asks lowly as he takes the open seat across from him, keeping this conversation quiet from open ears. The man in front of him already an outcast drawing the attention of the other patrons.

The Witcher keeps to himself, gaze downcast, gloved hand extended to his tankard to keep within his lips' reach.

"Are the stories true?"

"Depends." The voice that comes from under the hood is deep, a wolf's growl and grunt. The White Wolf, an apt name for the man.

"The ones of the creatures you slay, of the bloody mess you leave in your wake wherever it is you wander. Death follows you." The tension ratchets up higher. The hulking man grips his ale tighter, a deeper scowl set in his features.

"I'm here to drink alone." The growl comes back, softer, reserved but no less snarling silently, wanting the man to leave him be.

"So am I." He catches the larger man's molten gaze. "Are you staying alone as well?" He watches the way his pupils constrict, eyes narrowing.

"If it's a curiosity you're settling-"

"It is, but not as you assume. Have you a room?"

The Witcher stares at him, those captivating golden irises never leaving his. "What is it you want?"

"To hire you." He sets his hands down onto the table bracketing his own cup.

The other man groans, surely irritated by the tedious back and forth in having to ask for more information every time. "For what?"

"To protect me." This surprises the bulky man across the table, his interest piqued but his caution held tight to his chest. "I'll pay you well. Just this one night is all I require."

"What is it that may cause you trouble?"

"The wood beyond the town. I've something to collect within, but can only do so in twilight. The folks around here have mentioned that which bumps in the night. I need protecting from it." His fingers drum against the table in a melody that draws the others attention briefly.

"You're either a fool to risk a dangerous journey, or a fool looking to meet death in the face out there. What is it that you seek in the wood?"

"An item." He takes a sip of his ale. "An item that is said to sit at the bottom of a pool surrounded by a particular flower that which glows in the darkness of night."

"You're dealing with magic."

"I am. Consider me twice the fool."

The Witcher lifts his tankard and downs the rest of his drink before standing. His heavy feet pass him by until he voices up again, just over his shoulder, "I'll pay 1000 orens." The man stops, a huff of a breath escaping his lips. He waits just a moment before the hunter turns back around.

"Just this night?"

"Just." He lifts from his chair, a sly smile gracing his lips as he offers his hand. The Witcher takes it for a firm handshake, his larger hand swallowing his own in the grasp. "Jaskier. Pleased to meet you, Geralt."

\---

Jaskier had shown an unassuming bag with a hidden pocket where the coin was kept before they left. If the deed was done, Geralt could come back for it all. They leave to the forest on foot, both knowing the thickness of the trees was no place for the horses they kept. They had seen the frightened and judging looks from the townspeople as they left in the direction. Jaskier held a burning torch in front of him as they walked into the threshold of the wood to light their way. He peered around at the massive height of the canopy, the thickness of the trunks and branches, the darkness gripping just outside the reach of the flame he held. The forest was eerily quiet as they trudged through the brush, taking tall careful steps. Twigs snapped and the nocturnal animals skittered about around them only to find solace under another bush or up a different tree to hide.

He watched the Witcher, his cloak gone in favor of comfort to keep an eye on his surroundings. The man walked just a few paces ahead, his eyes scanning the landscape around them using his heightened senses. Jaskier sees the way his shoulder length white hair jostles with his steps, broad shoulders heavy set in a tense line to his spine.

"The air is dense here. There's not even a whisper of wind." There's no response to his softly spoken observation. "It's said that if you're quiet enough, you may hear the trees themselves speaking to each other."

"You'd have to first be quiet." Geralt grumbles ahead of him. He smirks. He does go quiet as they continue to walk. The Witcher glances back every so often, eyes glinting in the fire's light when they meet eyes. A frown tugs his lips and a line creases between his brows. Jaskier steps to meet the stopped man.

"What is it?"

"I..." Geralt levels a scrutinizing eye over the man. "I keep losing you."

"How do you mean? I've been right behind you this entire time." Jaskier raises a brow, a playful smile at his lips.

"Your movement. The sound disappears." He takes in the rigid posture of the Witcher as he bluntly explains with the few words that come to him.

"Do you think it could be the forest? You've dealt with magic more than I, I'm sure. I don't know about you, but I feel as though the trees are watching us." Jaskier glances around, lifting the torch to see around the thick of trees they've stopped amidst.

The woods encompassing them span for miles and miles in all directions, even the path they've come from seems like it's been devoured by the night. What the flames' light can touch appears as if it were a fake wall, just a lie of a painting of the landscape they walk. A feeling itches in the back of his brain like they might be going in circles despite having walked in near a straight line so far.

The Witcher hums, though he can't say if it's in agreement or dismissal. Jaskier passes him by, hand hovering over his shoulder where his swords are strapped, but making it a point not to touch the other man nor his weapons. "No matter. Let us press on." His feet crunch into the dirt and dead leaves scattering the floor ahead. He feels the hunter's eyes still on him, though he follows.

It's another long silence between them walking into the ever-darkening wood. Even the animals have gone quiet. The trees become closer knit together, their branches stabbing out towards themselves. They play tricks to the eye, the jagged lines of the trunks deceiving the depth just in front of them. Where the trunk of one tree begins, following the lines up only disorients the eye in the negative space next to them. The trees sprout close as if engulfing them. It narrows down to the orb of light they can see around them from the torch.

"You must be very brave to kill off the creatures you have, Witcher. I have to admit you're not what I pictured from the stories."

"Tell me, how is it that you pictured me?"

"I thought I would be terrified just to be in your presence. Instead I can't help this curiosity." He can sense the man bristling from his words. "I meant not to offend. It's just that I was rather formed from a lullaby in my youth."

There's a low groan from further in, a creak behind them, a sigh of the landscape. Geralt's hand flickers over the dagger on his thigh.

"Look, just there." Jaskier stretches his arm before him, to get a better look through the trees. Geralt can't see what Jaskier is pointing at past the brush. The air is damp this far in, sending a chill down their spines from the prickling of the few noises flanking them, heard but unseen. "Would you like to hear the lullaby?" he asks offhandedly.

"What?"

"Are your eyes like that from all the mutations you went through? Are they sensitive?"

After a moment, he answers, "Yes. All my senses were enhanced."

"I'll have to put this out," he motions to and shakes the torch slightly, "or we won't be able to see the flowers I'm afraid and that is the point we're here, isn't it? Will you be fine?"

"Will you? How is it you expected to do this alone?"

"I'm not sure. I've gotten lucky I suppose." Geralt gives him a disbelieving and unimpressed look, most likely thinking him twice the fool he said. Jaskier shrugs and crouches down to stab the skinnier end of the torch into a clear spot on the ground. He hadn't brought anything to extinguish the fire. It still had at least an hour to burn more from the oils soaked into the wood. He carefully steps around it and continues to walk. "So how about it?"

Geralt follows him into the entrance of darkness. The man before him shouldn't be able to see more than a few feet in front of him. Jaskier turns his head back over his shoulder, and Geralt sees it. The man's previously blue eyes shine reflective and glossy as an animal's from the firelight now behind them before he smiles lazily. "Would you like to hear the lullaby?"

The Witcher's blood runs cold. He opens himself to scent the air, shift his pupils further to slits, listens closer to the other man. Jaskier steps to the side behind a tree and Geralt loses him.

He hears the hushed calling through the trees instead:

Wolves asleep amidst the trees  
Bats all a swaying in the breeze  
But one soul lies anxious wide awake  
Fearing no manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths

This is an old song. Very old. _'-a lullaby in my youth.'_

For your dolly Polly sleep has flown  
Don't dare let her tremble alone  
For the Witcher, heartless, cold  
Paid in coin of gold  
He comes, he'll go, leave naught behind  
But heartache and woe  
Deep, deep woe

There's a crackling of a tree branch ripping from its trunk diagonally behind him. Before he can turn to the noise, he sees a flitting of a shadow on the opposite side of him through the trees. Darkness shadowing darkness. He lumbers further into the trees, getting away from the light of the torch which is swallowed up easily. He takes his silver sword from its sheath on his back and tries to make his own movements as silent as he can.

Birds are silent for the night  
Cows turned in as daylight dies  
But one soul lies anxious wide awake  
Fearing no manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths  
My dear dolly Polly shut your eyes  
Lie still, lie silent, utter no cries  
As the Witcher, brave and bold  
Paid in coin of gold

The voice of the man warbles into the canopy above, but the next words start to hiss in an accusatory and malicious way.

He'll chop and slice you  
Cut and dice you  
Eat you up whole  
Eat you whole

The trees around him dampen any other sound, the silence now screaming at him. His mind fills the void with a loud low bass, wracking through his body. He hears another snap from one direction and a soft displaced chuckle from another. His head is swiveling on his neck it feels. The darkness is softened with a cold grey hue. He walks towards the light he can see suffused through the branches. Then he sees the man in front of him, stood with his back to him, facing a circle of glowing blue flowers. There's a shine like ice along the ground illuminated by moonlight that is coming from a clean cut circle in the top of the canopy directly over this pool of water.

"We've found it, Geralt."

**Author's Note:**

> Creature!Jaskier is ruining my life right now. He'll be revealed in the next part if I ever get around to it, that is if you haven't already figured it out.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are so very appreciated and make me feel better.  
> In the meantime, what's your favorite horror fic? Want to recommend it below?


End file.
